


Therapy Needed

by bravelove



Series: Snapshots of Minecraftian Extended Lore [1]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Blood Magic, Hurt/Comfort, Let Them Be Soft Cowards, M/M, My Personal Lore, Parvis Reveals Some Backstory, Parvis has a breakdown but Strife helps, Therapy, mention of cults, not edited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 10:53:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20469839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravelove/pseuds/bravelove
Summary: A polished shoe tapped on carpet, it’s owner feigning reading a nearby magazine. William Strife was glad they had managed to put him in a separate waiting room from the usual guests, Strife didn’t want to even think about the tabloids if someone caught him even near a therapist let alone in ones waiting room. He wasn’t here for him though, perhaps later if it proved effective, the thought of someone picking his brain still made him shiver, no he was waiting for Parvis.





	Therapy Needed

A polished shoe tapped on carpet, it’s owner feigning reading a nearby magazine. William Strife was glad they had managed to put him in a separate waiting room from the usual guests, Strife didn’t want to even think about the tabloids if someone caught him even near a therapist let alone in ones waiting room. He wasn’t here for him though, perhaps later if it proved effective, the thought of someone picking his brain still made him shiver, no he was waiting for Parvis. It had taken a long night to get Parvis to be willing to try talking with a therapist, many tears as well, but he had done it, and now he had to wait, anxious that it would go badly. Luckily he had triple checked Parvis for knives so hopefully if Parvis got into another bloodlust he’d be able to be restrained before there was actual damage. Staring at the magazine and not processing it, Strife felt his mind wander back to the incident that had caused it. 

It had started so simply, another day by the damned altar, it had started about as well as it always did, Parvis sacrificing a few villagers as they chatted while Strife purposefully didn’t look at the villagers. They had chatted about a bit of everything, from the weather to things Parvis were planning on making to the newest upgrade to the atomic disassembler, it seemed like just another normal day. Then Parvis began staring at him, a far off look in his eyes, and asked him if he believed in gods.

The question had startled Strife, he and Parvis never talked about anything religious after all. He thought about it though, did he? Eventually he told Parvis he believed in hyper powerful beings but not gods. Parvis had frozen at that, Strife had sworn he even stopped breathing, before his pupils narrowed to pinpricks. He moved so fast Strife flinched back, barely dodging the hand reaching out to grab his arm, and Strife could have sworn in those eyes clearly no longer here, there was fear. Strife had demanded to know what was wrong with Parvis, thinking on it Strife could only tch in the present, how foolish of him, he clearly was having a flashback, but he was startled by the strangeness and wasn’t thinking clearly.

The rest was a blur in his memories of the two wrestling as Parvis tackled him, luckily Parvis had dropped the knife by the altar. While Strife had been taken off guard by the sudden attack, he was no weakling and with a few quick moments managed to pin Parvis arms while he straddle his waist to keep him in place. Though Parvis made a very good effort of thrashing, he would not be moved. Eventually Parvis went limp though, tears filling up his eyes. Strife removed his hands from Parv’s arms and gently held his face, a gentle shine came from him illuminating the scared expression of Parvis. However the state of his apprentice was concerning, frowning at the despair he saw as he wondered what came over his apprentice. 

Strife wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, a silence having overtook them as all the duo knew for that moment was the other, but soon all the tension and confusion from just a moment before seemed to have lifted from the air. Leaving the two on a cold bloody floor, hearing nothing but the other’s breath, feeling nothing but the beat of there hearts, seeing nothing but that bright green shine. Eventually Parvis seemed to return to earth, he shakingly moved an arm, and while Strife tensed in case he had to pin him again, Parvis just brushed Strife’s face, and only then Strife had realized he had been silently crying.

Parvis had pulled him close, and Strife let Parvis stand up carrying him, his normal arguments against it silent on his tongue. Parvis shakingly carried him to the bedroom and gently put Strife down in a bed before collapsing next to him, shaking in silent sobs. Strife had let him cry for a few minutes before he felt the shaking starting to go down, he then not so gently poked Parv’s shoulder to get and gave the best concerned look his stoic face could give as a puffy eyed and flushed Parvis looked up at him. He had then asked what had happened, and when Parvis had tried to hide and say nothing he gently pulled Parvis close and held him close to his chest, Parvis looked up at him in wide eyes, fragile eyes, and Strife just gently brushed the hair from his face with a small worn out sigh and kissed his forehead, letting his defenses down a bit to soften his eyes and give a sorta gentle smile. He held him like that for a few more minutes before asking again what was wrong, when Parvis paused again he, feeling out of options started to hum as Parvis pressed close to his chest to feel the vibrations, his eyes drooping, Strife hoped it made him feel safe. He didn’t say a word as he gently removed his vest and let Parvis clutch at his shirt, just as he pointedly ignored how bright he had gotten at the desire to comfort his apprentice.

After another minute of just soothing each other with nothing more then being there for the other, Strife asked one last time what had happened, and while Parvis burst into tears again, he spoke, he spoke of a history never breached in a silent agreement, of a lost twin sister, of gangs and the streets, of cults and a supposed god of mania, of how Xephos had never sent him, the cult had, and how he escaped it through Strife, of nightmares of the things he had to do to survive because his gang had betrayed him to that cult, of his first kill, Strife’s heart especially clenched at that, of mercy being forbidden, at how villagers were kidnapped and he was forced to be their keeper, and of many things Strife could not even hear at how soft Parvis’ voice had become. He had been so hyped on magic and villagers blood and suddenly he was back there and Strife wasn’t safe to be there, because Strife would never yield, and how he had to force Strife to at least pretend to believe to protect him like he protected himself, no matter how.

It melted some of the ice on Strife’s heart to know of the pain Parvis had been hiding, that he had lost so much and forced to do horrible things, when Parvis could not talk anymore and seemed so small, so fragile, Strife kissed his forehead and moved from humming to gently singing pointedly ignoring how tender that was and how it somehow made even brighter. Looking upon his apprentice he determined immediately he would never again see anything hurt the gift in his arms so harshly, never again, whatever this cult was, they had given Parvis to him, and he’d never return him, and he’d make sure they were no longer around to demand that either. He could just say he was doing it to destroy competition or something. 

Eventually they had both slipped into slumber, holding the other, and when they woke up, still wrapped in the other, and when they pulled away, Strife suggested against his gut reaction therapy. Parvis had resisted at first, too scared of the crimes he was forced to do, of the crimes had done gleefully, of opening up to a stranger. Strife however, had insisted, promising he’d take Parvis off planet to the best therapists out there, where he couldn’t get in trouble, just one trial session. Eventually after more placations for both of them on why it would be a good idea, Parvis agreed.

And so Strife waited in the lobby, trying to not think of all the many ways this could go wrong and how he would be proven a fool for trusting someone trained to root around in your mind. Soon the door opened though, and Parvis shakingly walked out, tears staining his cheeks, but he seemed to be standing a bit taller. He walked over to Strife who quickly stood up scraping the chair upon the tile, worried Parvis had been hurt, and reached a hand out to Parvis. Parvis quickly grabbed, pulling him closer to hug him, after a few moments Parvis pulled away. After a few seconds of just staring, a smile gently tugging at Parvis’ lips.

“Strife, I, I think I may want to come back.” Parvis mumbled, shuffling his feet a bit, but his small smile did not waver.

Strife matched the smile, reaching up to cup Parvis’ hand “I’m glad Parvis, I’ll set that up then, how about we get some food, the vending machine here is horrid and I need some real food.”

“Yeah I’d like that, yeah.” Parvis whispered, smiling a bit larger. Soon when they were out the door he suddenly spoke up again, louder now, “Hey Strife? Do you think we can clean up the castle a bit and, keep chickens? Seems easier for sacrifices, even, even if it’s a lot less blood, it seems a lot less-” Parvis furrowed his brow unable to think of the world, hand flapping a bit as he tried to find the words.

“Yeah we can do that Parvis, I think it’ll be good for you.” Strife gently cut in, not wanting Parvis to retreat, “Steven would probably like to chase them as well.” 

“Y-yeah!” Parvis seemed to gain a bit of pep in his step at the acceptance while he declared it,”He’ll love it and I can mop up some of the dried blood it’s pretty sticky and uh yeah!” slowly his trademark grin was coming back, but it seemed softer, almost kinder then usual, more trickster-like while less tear out throats-like, more like the old days..

For the first time in months, Strife felt true hope soar in his chest for his apprentice’s fate at the sight, Parvis would be fine, Parvis would get better, and he’d be here for every step of the journey.


End file.
